


Intentions

by Lady_Lavender



Series: The Heart of an Alliance [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Don't copy to another site, F/M, Malphas is Nero's Mom, Pre-Relationship, at least i think that's the most fitting tag to use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 18:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20801171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Lavender/pseuds/Lady_Lavender
Summary: Malphas and Vergil talk to each other about their intentions during their tenuous alliance in Fortuna





	Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> Second part of my Cursed AU! There's more coming... eventually. Just short little one-shots like this, for the most part.

Vergil looked over her shoulder as she read — an annoying habit of his that she'd clocked him for on multiple occasions already. Malphas didn't care for other people watching her or trying to pry into what she was doing without the honesty or courage to just _ask_. "Do I have to resort to blasting you in the face with magic each time you read over my shoulder like this, you horrible boy?"

The withering glare he gave her would make any of the 'good' girls in the Order shrink away and offer profuse apologies, but Malphas met it head-on without hesitation. (Fear was another thing entirely — fear she could control and work to her advantage, but hesitation would get her killed)

"I am not a child."

Malphas turned around and shoved her hand in his face to push him away. "Then maybe you should _grow up_ if you want me to stop treating you like one. You act like a spoiled brat, I'm going to treat you the same way I treat the entitled shits that think I owe them sex just for the dubious pleasure of catching their interest."

She was pleased to note that when Vergil did pull away, she'd messed up his hair and caused him to start fussing with it. Good, he needed a reminder that not everyone would bow to his whims just because he was reasonably powerful and a son of Sparda.

(_A_ son, not _the_ son… he was always careful with his wording on that. Did Vergil have a brother, somewhere?)

"I was simply curious as to what kind of research you might be doing." As though his attention and interest in her should be some great pleasure… what a pompous twit. But he _was_ useful, and had proven to be eager to learn what Malphas was willing to teach him in regards to magic.

"Then _ask_ me instead of reading over my shoulder all the time. Otherwise, I _will_ resort to making that pretty face of yours something no one would want to look at." A fitting punishment for a prideful little shit.

Those blue eyes stared at her, wide and — Malphas would _like_ to believe — incredulous at the suggestion. "You're secretive enough that I assumed asking would only be met with nothing to gain for my efforts. At least reading over your shoulder, I can get glimpses."

"People who steal glimpses instead of asking outright, regardless of the answer they think they'll get, are nothing more than cowards, in my eyes."

Vergil visibly stiffened, his hand tightening around that katana he wore at his waist. Had Malphas offended him? _Good._ He needed the blow to his pride. Maybe now he'd stop reading over her shoulder, too.

"What are you researching?"

Bold of him to ask, so soon after saying he thought she wouldn't answer. Maybe the insinuation of his cowardice drove him to be so forward, but Malphas was too amused to care about what was going on in his head.

"The Order has been looking into ways to harness demonic power for themselves. One of those ways, from what I've found out, is by trying to become demons themselves. Oh, their alchemists and priests are dressing it up in prettier words, trying to hide what they want to become. But I'm interested in it, too. They have rituals gathered from hundreds, even thousands of years ago, when magic was more documented."

Malphas smiled, looking Vergil up and down. He had been born with demonic power coursing through his veins, and his heritage from Sparda's lineage — and possibly his human mother's, though she couldn't be certain of that unless Vergil was willing to talk about it — gave him a natural aptitude for magic. How powerless had he ever truly felt?

He looked back at her, head tilted to the side as those inhuman eyes reassessed Malphas. "You think you can achieve becoming a demon before these fools in the Order catch on to you?"

That teased a laugh out of her, and she placed a bookmark into her spot in the book she'd been working through. "I _know_ I can. They eschew magic as much as they can, because the only ones who wield it on their precious island are witches and sorceresses like myself. But all their research has given them rituals that have worked in the past… Yet they want to stick to their precious alchemy instead."

Their stubbornness would slow them down, while she was willing to be far more direct.

"Let's say you succeed… Do you think you'll be powerful enough as a demon to survive among their ranks?"

Aha... And that was the question she'd really been waiting for. "I don't know. But I'm willing to die to try and find out. What about you, Son of Sparda? What are _your_ intentions?"

Malphas wrapped her arms around Vergil's neck, drawing him back into her bedroom. He was handsome, and never pressed her for so much as a kiss if she was unwilling to give it, so he had _some_ measure of respect for her on that front.

He just needed to be taught a few things before spilling his intentions to her, that was all.


End file.
